Whispered Lies

The helicopter dropped out of nowhere to hover just above the ground at fifty feet, blocking their path to dense woods. Wind lashing off the rotors shook the Jeep.

Gunfire ripped loose, boom, boom, boom. Bullets struck the hood.

Carlos spun the Jeep to the right, lifting up on two wheels, then slammed back down. He gu

Moonlight glinted off three men spilling out of both sides of the helicopter, including the pilot. They ducked under the slowing rotors, and every one of them held serious-looking weapons. Machine guns?

Popping sounds erupted. One bullet ripped through Gabrielle’s side of the Jeep, but missed her.

She would have screamed if she could breathe. They were going to die.

“Tuck down!” Carlos spun the Jeep in a one-eighty, shooting his handgun as he wheeled around.

She obeyed immediately, wishing she could disappear. With her head turned to the side of her lap, she could see beyond the half door that offered no protection.

One of the shooters went down.

The Jeep took a hard left, then plowed ahead full speed into the woods as if Carlos had found a path.

She popped upright. No path.

The older pine and oak trees with thick trunks were at least spaced wider apart than the width of the Jeep, so far. Her heart bounced with the hope of escaping this bunch. Then, God willing, she’d get away from Carlos. He might have been right about the DEA guy being Baby Face, or he could have been lying to her.

All of them could be lying to her.

She twisted around, looking for anyone chasing them.

“Fuck!” Carlos skidded the Jeep to a stop and slapped the steering wheel.

No translation was needed this time to alert her things had just gone severely downhill. She took one glance at the ravine in front of them flooded by the headlights and agreed with his assessment.

He rammed the shifter into reverse and started backing up wildly. Or at least it would have been wild if she’d been driving, but he seemed just as in control backing through the woods at sixty miles an hour as driving forward on a highway at ninety.

He slammed to a stop and wheeled hard to the right, ru

A loud explosion boomed right before a smoke screen billowed in front of them with no chance to avoid it. The Jeep ran up on a stump that lifted the two passenger-side wheels off the ground.

Her body tilted toward the driver’s door.

She clamped her teeth against the scream gushing up from her chest and grappled for anything to anchor herself.

Carlos released the wheel and threw his weight toward her, grabbing and turning her body to his. Glowing dash lights lit his face. “I’ve got you.”

In that one fleeting instant, she thanked whatever angel had sent him to her. She didn’t know who he was or whom he worked for, but this man was trying to protect her with his life.

He held her tightly, still shielding her as their Jeep hurtled out of control.

The Jeep slammed a tree on the left, jarring her teeth, then counterbounced to the right, throwing her body back and forth, but he never let her go. The cab hit another tree and knocked it sideways, spraying broken glass everywhere.

His arms and body had covered her, preventing her from being injured.

When they stopped moving, she was clutching him and trying to breathe.

His chest expanded with a couple deep breaths, then settled into a rhythm of control she envied. He released her and tried to gun the engine forward, then in reverse. They were stuck on top of something and didn’t have enough traction to get free. He cut the engine and turned to her; his eyes took her in with one quick sweep.

“You okay?” The concern in his voice might be her imagination, but she needed it right then.

“I think so.” She still clutched him.

He reached across her arms to grasp a triangular glass shard stuck in his forearm and grunted. Blood gushed from his arm the minute he yanked the glass plug loose. He tossed it aside and calmly unclipped her seat belt, then unclenched her fingers so he could release his buckle.

She took a couple deep breaths to calm herself, but all things considered, she wasn’t doing half bad. She was holding herself together, prepared to face whatever came next.

At least, she was until Carlos brushed her hair back out of her eyes with a tenderness that threatened to unleash the hysteria curling up her chest.

Her face must have given her away.

He leaned forward and kissed her on the forehead. “Don’t panic. You okay?”

The kiss comforted her almost as much as seeing an army charge to the rescue. “Oui” was all her strained mind could come up with. She had to pull herself together. Now!

“Let’s go.”

“You keep saying that as if it were no big deal and it only gets worse.” She scrunched her nose at the acrid smell left from the smoke screen they had broken through.

“Don’t make any sudden moves.” He lifted his cell phone, listened, sighed, and stuck it in his pants pocket. She had no idea where his weapon came from, but he had a lethal-looking gun in his hand again when he stepped out of the truck.

She’d never been around weapons and couldn’t get used to seeing so many of them.

He kept gazing all around the Jeep while reaching in with one hand to help her out on his side. Hers was crunched. He cut off the headlights.

“Do we still have a chance?” she asked in a whisper.

“Not right now,” Carlos answered just as softly.

Two men stepped into a shaft of moonlight flooding a rise fifty feet away. One carried a rifle he pointed at her and Carlos. The other guy held what she would guess was a grenade launcher-based on what she’d seen in movies-at his shoulder. Now that she thought about it, that was probably what launched the smoke bomb.

“Follow my lead until we get a chance to escape,” Carlos whispered. “You’re just some chick I dated. Got it?”

Just when Gabrielle was ready to admit defeat, the confidence in those words stoked another rush of belief in this man. She nodded, ready to fight as long as he did.

The two men strolled forward until the one with the automatic weapon held on them stopped a few feet away. “Hello, Carlos.”

“Hola, Turga.”

“Toss your weapon and cell phone away.”

Carlos complied. “You have a falling-out with Baby Face?”

Gabrielle hid her surprise at how Carlos and this man talked like old friends.

“No’ really.” Turga would be invisible if not for the whites of his eyes. He was black everywhere, face and hands, clothes, knit cap, boots and weapon. A heavy smell of cigarettes burdened the fresh air not tinged by the smoke bomb. His English came out in a choppy Turkish accent. “Baby Face became unavoidable casualty. Good thing he found her first.”

“What do you want her for?” Carlos made it sound as if Gabrielle’s only value had been supplying him with a vehicle.

“Very fu

“After what?” Carlos snorted. “Baby Face had business with me, not her.”

“Really? So you know of his big deal?” Turga eyed him warily, but Carlos had planted a seed of curiosity.

Carlos shrugged. “Didn’t get a chance to hear the whole deal and didn’t really give a shit when I caught him trying to grab my woman.”

Turga snorted as if unconvinced.

“Let her go, Turga. She’s just made the mistake of getting involved with me.”

Gabrielle gave Carlos her solid vote right then. She didn’t know who Baby Face or Turga were, but Carlos was the only one in present company who hadn’t tried to kill her.

“You think I’m stupid?” Turga asked in a tone that rippled across Gabrielle’s skin. “Prove she’s your woman.”

How could he possibly prove that? Not that Gabrielle wasn’t prepared to back him up and agree to anything Carlos said, but doubt took root in her exhausted mind.